


Rounders

by CommanderInChief



Category: Holby City
Genre: Multi, The thin line between 'fix it' and denial
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-22 00:18:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7410904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommanderInChief/pseuds/CommanderInChief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The air was hot, the sun shining and, as per Holby tradition, everything *almost* goes to plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rounders

Hidden away in the AAU office, blinds slatted safely closed to the ward, the light breeze drifting in through an open window was the only thing keeping Serena Campbell’s brain cells from evaporating. Hotter than Ibeza, according to the radio straining to even mumble from somewhere underneath the slowly decomposing pile of old sandwich cartons and whatever was growing in the three-week old coffee mugs holding together a marquee of paperwork.  

Serena smirked when she heard that.  _ Of course  _ Hanssen’d manage to schedule the annual rounders match for the hottest day of the year so far.

In fact, the only person on the entire ward that didn’t seem to be on the brink of skinning themselves alive in the heat, was Bernie. Still marching around the hospital in all three of the layers she’d arrived in, anyone would’ve thought the woman had half a dozen ice packs shoved under her shirt.

When asked, said surgeon didn’t even glance over the paperwork wall before muttering something about being acclimatised to the Afgan heat – something Serena might’ve believed if it hadn’t been for the dribbles of sweat glistening on her neck, occasionally dropping down and slipping under the front of her buttoned black shirt.

“You’ll be batting in three woolly jumpers and a scarf at this rate. You know, no one’s going to comment on your shoulders,” So far, Dom’d been the only male nurse brave (or stupid) enough to make a remark about Bernie’s physique. Somehow, he got away without a screaming red hand print across his face but the look was enough to stop any others.

“What about my shoulders?” Bernie was looking up from her tablet now, staring directly across the office that suddenly felt three times smaller.

Serena took a second before answering, acutely aware of the chances of this going well dropping like blonde nurses at their first surgery “I’m just saying that no-one’s going to be paying much attention to your tan lines when the bats come out,”

It seemed to be enough for the blonde to go back to her IPad “I didn’t know you were even taking part, Serena,”

“Oi! I’ll have you know I was on the regional cricket team when I was at school!”

“International army tug of war women’s championships,”

“…You win,”

\---

Meanwhile, on the other side of the hospital, Zosia had barely been out of surgery for ten minutes when she was hunted down by Darwin’s very own hell-in-high-heels, wielding a heavy wooden bat with what looked like a metal strip around the top gleaming in the white light. No wonder the elderly ladies in the waiting room had looked worried.

“You, me, field behind the peace garden. I know you have time because I’ve just checked your lunch schedule.”

Still staring at the bat, Zosia held her bundle of files closer to her chest.

Even if it hadn’t been accompanied by the trade-mark Naylor shake of the head, the eye-roll would’ve been enough “Come on, I’m hardly going to smash your skull in with it – or not when I’d be on duty to sew it back up, anyway. I just want to make sure that my team are up for the game this afternoon, before I let you go running around like idiots and get hit on the back of the head with a ball or something,”

“And do you have one? A ball?”

“No – I thought we’d just throw the bat instead.”

“… Point.”

“Look,” Jac shifted her weight from one foot to the other “The others are already down there. It’s your decision if you want to join us but just bare in mind that I’m only having those who I know are up to the job on my team. Understood?”

Not bothering to wait for an answer, she turned on her heels and made for the field where they both knew Zosia would join them. Slinging the bat over one shoulder, Jac mused that like most things, it could only be a matter of time.

\---

Half an hour until kick off and Serena was just draining the last dregs of her tea in an almost ominously quiet ward when half of her team, in the form of Raf and Fletch, decided to grace her with their presence. “Boys! I was just wondering where you’d went – Naylor’s already got her team doing practice rounds out on the field,” Her eyes narrowed as she realised that they were still a man down “Have either of you seen Ms Wolfe?”

The pair eyed each other like school boys caught trying to steal a bird’s nest “We umm…” Raf began, making an effort not to make eye contact “I… ermm… May’ve spilt orange juice… Sort of all down her…”

“That’s what these are for,” Fletch nodded down at the slightly creased bundle of bright blue that Serena hadn’t noticed he’d even been carrying.

“She can’t run in scrubs,”

“To be honest, boss, I don’t think she was planning on running at all, thanks to muppet-head here,” Fletch nodded his head towards a slightly red-faced Raf.

“In all fairness, though, she did seem a bit-”

“Oh, for god’s sake!” Exclaimed Serena, already piling her folders into one arm to leave the other free “Give those here, I’ll give them to her – as soon as you two can’t be trusted. We won’t have a team at this rate, let alone a chance at winning,”

“ _ Well- _ ”

At Serena’s glare, Fletch thought better than to finish his sentence.

\---

“Ow!” It was accompanied by a loud ‘thump’ as Sasha’s head collided with the underside of the break-room countertop.

With slightly raised eyebrows, Dom turned the page of the predominately pink magazine he’d assured Arthur he was only reading ironically “What exactly are you doing down there?”

“I’m trying to find the barbeque. Essie said she’d left it somewhere around…”

“Cupboard right of the washing machine by any chance?” Suggested Dom before turning his attention back to the pit-bull that ate someone’s baby or whatever other twaddle so-called editors clinging to their last thread of respectability had deemed appropriately mind-numbing to feed to semi-menopausal women these days.

“What exactly are you planning on doing with that thing anyways?”

Sasha emerged, red faced with a piece of metal held rusted to the point where it looked as if the only thing holding it together was the woodlouse holding hands “We’re having a barbeque, during the match. Sausages, burgers, chicken wings…”

“Hear that diggers?” Dom called over the back of the sofa. He was rewarded by a bewildered ‘What?’ from the direction of the bathroom.

Obviously having heard someone say the words ‘chicken wings’ consecutively, it only took a few more sentences of mindless dribble before Arthur stepped out, dressed in black and pink running gear tight to the point of looking suspiciously like it belonged to Morven. The overall effect was that of a slutty highlighter “Sorry, what didn’t I hear?”

“Sasha’s putting on a barbeque for when you’ve finished trying to burn out your alveoli.”

“Wait… You’re not planning on running are you?”

“He’s batting; I’m running for him. Just because his lungs are bloody useless doesn’t mean that we need to give him an excuse to pass by his golden opportunity of not being a total dweeb just yet.”

\---

Four empty changing rooms later and Serena was starting to wonder if Bernie’d given up and abandoned them altogether. She’d just started going back over them, this time checking the men’s as well when Cara stopped her.

“I, erm, wouldn’t do that if I were you,”

Serena stopped her hand centimetres away from the door but eyebrows, now drawn together, were enough to tell that she wasn’t convinced “Why not?”

“There…  _ may’ve  _ been an… incident with Dr.Self getting stuck inside of one of the staff changing rooms…” Cara tried, gritted teeth giving her away.

The brunette lowered her voice “He’s still in there?”

“Yeah… It’s almost as if someone’s locked it with a master key from the outside…”

Once again, Serena’s eyebrows were having none of it “ _ Someone? _ ”

“It’s a long story?”

“Contary to popular belief, you do still have to be on best behaviour to get a reference. How much does Jac know about this?”

For the first time since being caught red-handed, Cara smiled “Who do you think leant me the key?”

“And here I was thinking we’d managed to get rid of our biggest resident megalomaniac,” The usual dry sarcasm was challenged by the tone that suggested she wasn’t any less in favour of a Guy-Self free after afternoon than the next doctor “Speaking of which – I don’t suppose you know where I could find Bernie? Raf managed to spill Orange juice all down her so I’m coming to the rescue with new clothes,”

“Why don’t you try the old changing room near A&E?”

“I thought nobody used that anymore?” It was small, dusty and ten minutes from the nearest non-emergency ward. Twenty from the AAU.

“It’s where she usually gets scrubbed in. I pass her in the corridor on the way up to Darwin. Maybe she just likes the peace and quiet?”

Serena held the bundle of clothes closer to her chest “Maybe,”

\---

Serena didn’t bother knocking before backing into the changing room. Having gone to the effort of trekking to the other side of the hospital covered in orange juice, Bernie probably wouldn’t answer to a knock anyway.

Perched on one of two benches, facing the door despite having their head curled into their body and hands clamped over their ears, a figure breathed slowly in and out.

“Bernie?”

Clenched shoulders rose and fell, faster this time, the only sign that the figure had any idea that she was there.

“Bernie?” Serena tried again. Had it been anyone else, she’d have considered calling phyc but something told her that it would only make the major ten times worse. “I brought a change of clothes, pair of shorts and T-shirt I had in my desk.”

She edged forward, her shoe leather barely tapping as it touched the old tiles “Are you alright?”

“How many times has this happened?”

No answer.

“You know, if you ever need a minute’s peace, there’re a lot nicer places for it than this.”

After another stretch of silence, she tried a different tactic “So, are you batting in the rounders match later?”

The quick exhale of breath, sounding almost like it couldn’t decide if it was a sigh or a breathy laugh, was louder than Bernie’s uncharacteristically high pitched answer “Like this?”

“Well, I’ve got you a change of clothes that’re a bit more comfortable than scrubs and there’s a good half hour to go.”

“I can’t.”

“Whyever not?”

For the smaller part of a second, the corners of Bernie’s mouth twitched upwards into a nervous smile “Don’t laugh.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“… It’s my legs.”

With a medic’s eye, Serena did a quick visual examination not of Bernie’s calves but her face, looking for any of the giveaway twitches that’d indicate she was in pain “You’re not still having trouble after the operation, are you?”

“No…” Bernie took a slow and deliberate breath. In. Out “It was something that happened back in Iraq, seems a lifetime ago now… There was an explosion in the field hospital we were working in. One minute it’s business as normal and the next I’ve got rubble from the calf down. In the end there was nothing for it but to yank me out,” Her mouth turned up at her own choice of verb, as if it were enough to make being trapped in a collapsed building humorous “I recovered, or enough for them to re-post me anyway – but it’s still not pretty.”

“Come, we’re doctors, we’re used to not pretty,” Squeezing Bernie’s slightly sticky knee, Serena leaned in like a gossiping teenager “And between you and me, that’s just the locums.”

Bernie stared at her fingers as they twisted the hem of her shirt. Hot sugar seeped out of the fabric, clinging to her skin like a thin layer of glue “I’m serious, Serena.”

Grey eyes met brown, sharing a truth that neither were quite ready to acknowledge.

“As am I.”


End file.
